Look at the Color
by DarthBubbles
Summary: In the waning years of the Rebellion against the Empire, Ezra Bridger and Sabine Wren wrestle with adulthood and managing their blossoming romance. (A collection of loosely-related SabineXEzra one shots, set during the original trilogy, rated for future innuendos and references to alcohol)
1. Point A

**Author's Note**

I know that the crew of the _Ghost_ don't exactly show up in the original trilogy, and so it's likely that canon will eventually lead to an explanation as to why they don't pop up in A New Hope or The Empire Strikes Back or Return of the Jedi. But as for now, I'd like to assume that their cell still serves the Rebellion even as Luke and his gang steal the spotlight. So, I may deviate just a bit from canon as it continues to be established, but the premise of this fic is that it takes place starting just a few weeks before the Death Star plans fall into the hands of an unlikely Tatooine farmboy. So, in canon timeline, the beginning of this fic (below) happens to be during the same year as the battle of Yavin (which, as you Star Wars savvy people know, is the event that splits history in half for the Galaxy Far Far Away). In other words, it takes place five years after we're first introduced to our beloved Rebels. Since the fic will revolve mostly around Sabine and Ezra and how they navigate their relationship in the waning days of the Empire, it's important to note that Sabine is 21, and Ezra is now 19. That being said, since they're older and adults and such, their relationship is going to be a bit more mature than your average teenage relationship. (No, this is not going to be an M-Rated story. Absolutely not.)

The timeline will be loose, flowy, and may jump ahead a bit if necessary. The chapters will most likely read more like a series of drabbles as opposed to a structured narrative. (Which is new for me, and I actually really enjoy the freedom of the style and hope you enjoy it too.) It also allows me to really focus on Sabine and Ezra, which, let's be honest, is really the only reason any of you decided to check out this fic anyways, right? (; To those of my readers wondering if this fic will interfere with _Sweet Sixteen_ , I can assure you it won't. That fic is my heart and soul as a fanfiction writer and I promise it's continuing to get the attention it deserves and desperately needs. This fic is a side project I'm very excited to explore, however.

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Disney, Rebels and their characters and plot belong to Dave Filoni.  
Although I _do_ blame the FanFiction community for making the Sabine and Ezra pairing an obsession of mine. This is all on you guys.

* * *

Sabine has known Theron Nett for only about four days, but the youngest pilot of the squadron assigned to train their cell on the Rebellion's new starfighter prototype has already become a friend of hers.

He's tall, sandy-haired with chocolate eyes and an easy grin, and Sabine enjoys how easy it is to get along with him as they trade jokes over the intercom and she learns how to take on the galaxy from the cockpit of an X-wing.

Ezra doesn't seem to enjoy him at all.

Theron tactlessly brings it up as they regroup at the hangar, climbing down ladders and once again meeting solid ground with jelly legs after an hour of boundless freedom in the stars. As Wedge Antilles gives Hera just a few additional pointers on how to perfect a spin move Sabine could never pull off in a million years, Theron sidles over to her before she even has the chance to remove the pilot's helmet that's much bulkier and less appealing than her own.

"So, how long have you and Bridger been a thing?"

Sabine freezes, and there's a hesitation in her voice that is fueled by a sudden and irrational feeling that she'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Ezra and I…aren't…" She clears her throat. "We aren't a 'thing.'" She tries to sound disinterested in the topic of conversation, but the way Theron frowns makes her wonder if he's able to pick up on the tired disappointment in her voice.

His eyes squint a bit in speculation. "You don't sound so sure about that."

She sighs, the weariness in her voice returning as she revisits the topic of conversation that she occasionally only carries with Hera, usually after drinking just a little too much juma juice because they're adults now and it makes the feelings she usually can only express through art much easier to articulate verbally. "He used to have a crush on me, when we were kids and I was uninterested, but he grew out of it. I think I'd notice if he grew back into it, considering I live just across the hall from him."

"I'm going to pretend like I didn't catch on to the fact that you just mentioned that being uninterested in him was a thing of the past and that you've obviously changed your mind." He grinned at the narrowing of Sabine's honey-colored eyes upon him. "Because he's _definitely_ grown back into it."

Sabine folds arms across her armored chest and cocks an eyebrow, unable to keep the sass from dripping into her tone of voice. "Yeah, person I just recently met, please tell me more about how you know everything about me and the guy I've known for five years now."

Theron chuckles. "All I'm saying is that he's got some definite physical tells that he wants to, at the very least, plant one right on your mouth." Theron doesn't flinch as Sabine smacks his arm. "Most notably his not-so-subtle dislike of yours truly."

"Don't take it personally. I doubt it means anything. Sometimes Ezra just… doesn't like people." The lie is terrible and they both know it, but Force help her if she gives in to Theron's silly theories. If Ezra hasn't done anything in five years to advance the state of their relationship beyond friendship, there likely isn't anything to advance it to.

Theron just has a wicked gleam in his eye as he watches Ezra walk into the hangar alongside Kanan to rejoin the members of the _Ghost_ crew that had completed the X-wing training. Vibrant blue eyes immediately lock onto the pair and narrow. "Well," Theron says, and the way he says it, full of mischief, gives Sabine the feeling that he's up to no good. "I guess we'll see."

And he reaches up, gently placing a hand on either side of Sabine's pilot's helmet, and pulls it up slowly over her head, setting it down on a crate and giving a feather touch to the bottom of her chin and a suggestive wink before striding confidently away.

She laughs a bit at both his bold flirtation and the ease at which he'd slipped into such a role, and the smile is still ghosting her lips when she turns to glance at Ezra from across the hangar. Even from this distance, she can see the subtle flex of his biceps and clench of his fists as he glares daggers at Theron's retreating form. Brilliantly blue eyes make contact with hers for just a brief moment as he catches the smile on her face and Sabine can tell he's jealous by the way his eyes roll as he whips back around and retreats from the hangar.

She can't really tell what emotion she's feeling as she's hit with unchecked nervousness and unbridled hope all at the same time, and it's only when she glances up and catches Theron turning back around to give her a wink and a big thumbs up that it clicks in her head.

"Oh my Force."

* * *

Red Squadron leaves just a few days later, returning to the Rebels' main base on a planet kept classified from their cell for safety's sake, although Kanan stubbornly believes it's just a ploy to keep them off the front lines. In those few days, Theron's flirtatious displays increase exponentially and Sabine rolls her eyes at the fact that he's simply doing it all to get a reaction out of Ezra every time.

And react Ezra does.

When Theron leaves, he grows bold enough to brush his lips across Sabine's forehead in farewell. The way Ezra blatantly avoids his handshake just a moment later makes Sabine's heart race in her chest as she considers his thoughts.

Then Red Squadron flies out, a perfect formation of X-Wings departing from the massive hangar of Commander Sato's Corellian Corvette. Sabine sits on the nose of one of the remaining X-Wings in the hangar after they leave as Hera and Kanan discuss next steps with the commander. It's then that Ezra joins her, motioning to the space next to her with a simple "May I?"

She nods, and he leaps up with the assistance of the Force, landing easily on both feet before he plops down next to her in a sitting position.

"So, uh, you seemed to really like Theron," he says quietly, and Sabine swallows hard at how quickly he gets to the point in a conversation she'd expected him to beat around the bush for.

She swings her hanging legs a little as she answers. "I do like him." And it's the truth, although not in the way that Ezra likely interprets it. "He's funny, and talented, and a real gentleman. Handsome too."

Raven hair flops forward as Ezra hangs his head. "Seems like a real catch."

"Not really my type, though."

His head shoots back up in an instant, and his jaw hangs open a bit as he searches for words and fails.

"You know me, I like color. And he was rather dull in that department. Pale hair, dark eyes, skin somewhere in between. Sure, he's handsome, but that's a lot of neutrals for a girl who's into… you know…" She trails off and meets brilliant blue eyes. "Vibrancy."

The hint isn't even remotely subtle, and alongside knowledge picked up from five years of close encounters and barely suppressed feelings from both sides, Ezra picks it up in a second. "Am I vibrant?" he asks, although by the way his lips are twitching in defiance of a smile, Sabine is sure he already knows the answer.

The first time Sabine kisses Ezra is quick and clumsy, five years of patient waiting for the moment culminating in a simple need for their mouths to connect and causing her to toss aside all thoughts of finesse. Their noses bump together and she huffs a bit in impatience as she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and yanks him in to press her lips fervently against his. They're soft and gentle and fit perfectly to the curve of her mouth, and Sabine giggles as they pull apart, partly due to the struggle and awkwardness of the ordeal and partly due to how long she'd waited to feel the nonsensical warmth in her chest that she was feeling right now.

Ezra grins and shakes his head even as he slips his hand in hers, and Sabine can't help but take notice of how perfectly their fingers fit together even with her pilot's gloves on. "You guys were making me jealous on purpose, weren't you?"

She laughs. "It was his idea actually. Had a crazy theory that you had a thing for me."

Ezra shrugs in that moment, adorably helpless. "I do have a thing for you."

Sabine smiles then, glad to hear affirmation of what he'd already proven true by returning the kiss. "Then… can we try that again?" Her tone is shy and tentative as she says it, but there's nothing shy and tentative, nor quick and clumsy, about the first time Ezra kisses Sabine.

What he's unable to express through words, Ezra says in the way his lips press slowly and firmly against hers. And in those lips she finds intentionality and assurance, and she smiles into the kiss at the thought that this is simply the beginning.


	2. Shades of Red

**Author's Note**

This one is rather short - like, _really short._ I apologize! The length of these chapters will vary because I'd like each to read as its own individual story within the larger framework of this Sabezra story arc, and this one happened to end up pretty short because it's centered around Sabine's mindset, and she's a quick thinker. (:

On the bright side, since this is a series of loosely-connected vignettes, the next one could be longer, or short and sweet, or whatever. Like Forrest Gump would say, it's like a box of chocolates and you never know what you're gonna get.

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Disney, Rebels and their characters and plot belong to Dave Filoni (who will hopefully eventually make Sabezra canon).

* * *

A week after Sabine kisses Ezra atop the hull of an X-wing starfighter, she's surprised at just how little has changed. He'll hug her a little tighter before they both head to bed at night, and his indigo eyes shine just a bit brighter when he looks at her across the war table during mission briefings, but for the most part it feels like it always has been, and Sabine wonders if it's because she's always loved him.

She hums in thought to herself at the idea. _Always is a pretty strong word, Wren._

And she smiles at the argument her head has presented to her because it's true. It's true that word "always" is transcendent of time, and it's true that she's loved Ezra Bridger always. Perhaps not in the most obvious of ways, but even as he'd slipped so easily and comfortably into her life while they were children on Lothal and she had rejected childish advances, Sabine had been learning to love him.

He's changed since then, of course, mentally and physically. He's taller now, toned and muscled, and his hair is longer; sometimes he pulls it back into a tight ponytail to match Kanan's, to keep it out of his face while training. His once-boyish features have become handsome, and Sabine wonders when exactly she'd realized just how much she's adored that chiseled jawline.

But most of all, Ezra has grown in wisdom, and in kindness. He's become a man with quiet determination and gentle spirit, yet still maintains the optimistic outlook and lively sense of humor she'd unknowingly started to fall for five years ago.

Sabine loves him. It's a thought that both excites and terrifies her.

She talks to Hera about it, up in the _Phantom_ one night when the others are asleep and after he's bade her goodnight with a touch of his lips to her forehead. Her skin still buzzes with the warmth of his mouth and she takes the proffered glass of juma juice from Hera's outstretched hand with a smile still teasing at the corners of her mouth.

"How did you deal with it?" Sabine asks after taking a sip of the drink, the sweetness electrifying her taste buds even as the alcohol burns in her throat.

"Falling for Kanan?" Hera already knows the answer, but Sabine clarifies with a nod anyways. A small smile graces the Twi'lek's face as she mulls over her answer. "I don't really think there was much to deal with. You know we keep it simple. I fell in love with our friendship; it was and always has been the driving force. So when I realized how far my feelings had reached, it was just realizing that our friendship had reached an entirely new level."

"Did you ever tell him?" Sabine asks, then clarifies, "That you loved him?"

"He's usually the one that says it," Hera admits. "But I show him every day. _I love you_ isn't the only way to say it, you know. When I cover him in battle, I'm telling him. When I tell him to be careful before a mission, I'm telling him. When I believe in him even when he feels inadequate, I'm telling him."

Sabine's lips quirk into a knowing smile, and she realizes she's been telling Ezra she loved him long before she'd even realized her feelings.


	3. Hues of Blue

She's in the middle of a project when they receive the distress signal, and when he barges into her bedroom to call her up to the _Ghost's_ command center, he almost hesitates at interrupting the creative process he finds almost as beautiful as he finds her. Sabine half turns toward him, paint gun in position, but hazel eyes widen when she sees the worried expression on his face and the gun is immediately abandoned, clattering to the floor.

She doesn't need to ask what's wrong, because he reads the question in the careful raise of her eyebrows.

"The _Tantive IV_ just activated her distress beacon," he explains. "Kanan's getting everyone together right now for the response run." He doesn't have to explain the danger. The _Tantive_ , as a diplomatic vessel, had very few reasons to send a distress call through Rebellion comm channels, and those reasons were for extreme circumstances.

"You're worried about Leia?" Sabine murmurs. It's not a question. Not really. After all, she knows the answer before Ezra nods solemnly. And he's grateful for her hand on his shoulder, her fingertips gently massaging into the tensed muscles more by habit than by conscious decision. "We'll get her back, Ezra. No one knows how to pull off a rescue mission like the Spectres."

He's thankful for her comfort even when the _Ghost_ arrives to the Tatooine system far too late and the _Tantive IV_ is nowhere to be seen among the dozens of Imperial Star Destroyers surrounding the planet. Hera and Kanan discuss the _Tantive's_ mission in hushed whispers in the hold after quickly fleeing the system and the Imperials, and Sabine gathers that the task the crew had been carrying out didn't necessarily hold true to the vessel's diplomatic nature. She doesn't really care about the mission's utter failure as she pulls her combat glove off of her left hand to allow carefully trimmed nails scratch gentle circles across Ezra's back.

He stares across the hold blankly, his chin propped up in his hands and his elbows pressed against the surface of the dejarik table. She doesn't really know what to say, or if _saying_ anything would have really made much of a difference, but she doesn't want to leave him alone unless he asks.

And he doesn't ask.

Sabine doesn't realize how long she's been sitting by him until her arm starts to numb, a tingling sensation running from the fingertips pressed against his back all the way up to her elbow and back down her forearm. She gives a final, gentle rub before withdrawing her arm from his back, opting instead to snake her fingers between his and bring their clasped hands down to rest on her thigh.

He moves his gaze for the first time since leaving the system, indigo eyes meeting hazel as he tightens his grip on her hand and leans in to press his lips to her temple.

"You gonna be alright?" she asks quietly, nestling her head in the crook between his neck and shoulder, his cheek coming to rest atop her vibrant hair. She feels him nod against her head and he exhales heavily.

"Just hits a lot closer to home," Ezra says, his voice soft. "I never really realized how untouchable I'd believed she was until I was proven wrong."

"Capturing a senator is a risky move," Sabine observes. "No one would have thought they'd have the nerve to take one captive. No one."

"I just hate that I've been so…" he struggles for a moment to find the word he wants, "…so _naïve_ to think that my own friends would somehow be kept safe. That I was done losing people."

"We haven't lost Leia," Sabine reminds him gently. "You know how strong and resilient she is. Don't count her out yet."

He sighs again. "I know. If anyone can find a way to break out of Imperial capture, it's Leia."

Silence falls over the hold once again, and Sabine's aware of his thumb sweeping circles across the back of her hand in his. She can't help but let a smile play at the corners of her mouth as she's struck by awe, not for the first time, at the width, the depth, the length of his heart for others. Although it's sometimes proven to be his vice, cutting deep wounds into his soul with every strike against the people he cares for, it's one of the traits that continually causes Sabine to fall for him all over again. It's a trait he's been teaching her to open up within herself for five years now.

"I swear though," he says abruptly, breaking the quiet and shaking her from her thoughts, "if they ever get their dirty, Force-forsaken hands on you…"

Sabine lifts her head from his shoulder, taking her free hand and placing it against his cheek to turn his face toward hers. "Ezra." Her voice is firm and unwavering, and his open mouth snaps shut immediately, swallowing the the words meant to finish the sentence he'd begun. "First of all, the day they get their 'dirty, Force-forsaken hands' on a _Mandalorian warrior_ will be the day Mustafar freezes over." She waits for a moment for the crooked smile she adores so much to ghost along his lips before she continues, "And second of all, no one, not even the Emperor himself, is going to separate you and I."

"Sabine…" His tone is weary and defeated, weighed down by the realism of the battles they fight, but she silences him with a finger to his lips.

"I'm serious," she says. "I didn't join the Rebellion just to lose everything. And I didn't fall in love with you just so the Empire could take you away."

He sighs. "It's just that the Empire's so _strong,_ and – Wait." He stops abruptly, eyebrows shooting skyward as he perks up.

She frowns. "What?"

Indigo eyes don't break contact with hazel. "You just said you loved me."

Sabine laughs gently, grazing her lips across his cheek briefly. "You already knew that, nerf herder."

"But you've never said it out loud."

She shrugs, lacing her fingers with his again as she rests her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes. "No. But I've been telling you."


	4. Shadows

The news about Alderaan hits hours after they discover the horror themselves.

It isn't the first time Sabine has witnessed the adverse effects of a Jedi's connection to the life-Force of the universe. She's seen Ezra feel Kanan's pain via the Force and vice-versa, but what she witnesses in the cargo hold of the _Ghost_ at the time of Alderaan's destruction is a sight that bound to haunt her nightmares for weeks to come.

She hears a pained shout from her quarters that she immediately recognizes as Ezra's, and her paint supplies are all but forgotten as she abandons her post in front of canvas to be at his side.

He's on the floor when she reaches the hold, one hand gripping his head and the other clutching at his heart. Next to him, Kanan is down on one knee, head in his hands, groaning incoherently in an attempt to deal with the pain. Sabine drops down at Ezra's side, hands trembling as she threads her fingers through his hair and rubs gentle circles across his back. "Hera!" she calls desperately in the general direction of the cockpit. Ezra's eyes are squeezed shut and he clutches tightly at her hand on his. "Shhh," she whispers as he sobs, pressing her lips to his cheek and tasting the salt from his tears. "Shhh, you're alright Ezra. You're right here. You're with me." She struggles to keep frantic worry from her soothing tones. "What's wrong, Ezra? What do you see?"

Hurried footsteps behind her indicate Hera's arrival, and the Twi'lek extends a hand to Kanan's shoulder. "Are you alright, love?" He squeezes her hand quickly.

"Fine," the blind Jedi grunts. "Help Ezra."

"Zeb!" Hera barks as the Lasat finally arrives on the scene. "Grab some ration bars for Kanan and Ezra!"

Ezra, who's quit his groaning and sobbing, trembles as he curls up on the floor in the fetal position. Hera brushes loose strands of sleek black hair from his eyes and places a comforting hand on Sabine's shoulder. "He's going to be alright," she encourages the young Mandalorian.

Sabine doesn't look away from his face to acknowledge Hera. "It's never been this bad before."

"He's never felt the sudden death of an entire planet's population before," Kanan responds grimly, still obviously feeling faint but recovered enough to weigh in on the situation. Hera moves to help him stand and walk over to the bench near the holotable to rest.

"An entire planet, love? Is that possible?"

"At this point in the war, I've stopped asking myself what's possible for the Empire. What we just experienced, though… such a massive loss of life."

Zeb rushes in with ration bars at that moment, and Hera takes one to hand to Kanan before tossing another to Sabine. The older Jedi bites into the food gratefully, feeling the strength the disturbance in the Force had sapped from him slowly return.

"Do you know where they struck?" Hera asks, although by her tone Sabine isn't sure if their pilot truly desires to hear the answer.

"Alderaan," Ezra says weakly, and Sabine gives a little gasp of relief at the sound of his voice as she presses her lips fervently to his head. "It was so… sudden. And so painful. It felt as if the Force was ripping my soul from my body."

Sabine shudders at the thought of such a feeling, a grimace forming on her face at just how far the Empire would go to win the war. "There are nearly 2 billion people on Alderaan. How could the Empire just… _murder_ them like that?"

"To prove a point," Kanan responds resignedly. "Which is all the more reason to stop them."

Ezra sits up with the assistance of Sabine and shakes his head, still visibly shaken by the experience. "What's the point?"

"We have to stand up for those who are too afraid to find their voice," Hera explains.

"If the Rebellion weren't standing up against the Empire, maybe billions of Alderaanians would be waking up tomorrow!" Ezra argues, his voice cracking as he fights hysteria. Sabine takes his hand in hers and squeezes.

"Ezra…" She's at a loss for words, and everyone knows it.

"The work we're doing is good. People didn't have much hope before the Rebellion came around," Zeb murmurs. "I didn't think my people had much of a chance until I saw what the Rebellion could do for them."

"And what about the people of Alderaan?" Ezra asks his roommate. "What hope do they have?"

Zeb's ears droop and his shoulders slump. "I don't know what to tell ya, kid. Other than to stand tall like a warrior must."

Sabine sighs. "Look, let's… let's not talk about this now. There's a lot of hurt and anger right now and I get that, but now's not the time to analyze where we're at. Not when it stings so much."

Ezra nods in grateful agreement, and she helps him stand. When she moves to guide him towards her room instead of his own, there is no protest from the crew. Sabine takes note of Hera's somber expression, wondering just how often she'd had to watch Kanan struggle with the very moral values Ezra was struggling with now.

When the door closes behind them and they are in the safe confines of her room, Sabine turns to take Ezra's face in her hands. "What do you need?" she asks, ghosting her lips across his jawline in a tender display of support. He hooks an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close, burying his face in her vibrant hair.

"You," he mumbles into her hair in reply. "I just need you."

"I'm here," she whispers, lacing her fingers with his and tugging him gently towards her bed. "You should rest," she explains as a mild expression of surprise crosses his features in response to her action. While Sabine's anticipated the option to take their relationship to the next level in the coming future, she has no desire to do so while Ezra is so emotionally compromised.

He nods sullenly as he reclines on her mattress, keeping his fingers locked with hers as she sits down next to him. "All those people, Sabine…" he whispers, "That could've been Leia. That could've been Hera or Kanan or Zeb or you."

"It wasn't us, though," she replies, lifting their entwined hands and pressing her lips gently to his knuckles. "Get some sleep, Ezra. We can talk when you wake up, alright?"

He nods, mirroring her gesture and bringing their clasped hands to his lips before releasing his hold and closing his eyes. Sabine lets a few minutes slide by, content simply in watching his breathing slow and his troubled expression soften as he slips into the subconscious state brought about by sleep.

It's here, in this vulnerable state, that Sabine is fully aware of how much she loves him. Her eyes stray over to her desk, where the abandoned canvas sits, sparsely touched by the beginning stages of her unfinished art project. Sabine can hardly remember the initial concept of the piece, as if she'd first visualized it a lifetime ago, despite the fact that in reality it's been less than an hour.

Yet the state of Ezra's heart and the way Sabine's own aches for him strikes her with such inspiration that she practically scrambles for her paint guns, loading them up with color and carefully lining the canvas with brilliant blues and greens and oranges.

Every feeling Sabine is unable to articulate with descriptive words and craftily constructed sentences she conveys in splashes of color. For over an hour the only noises she hears are the steady breaths of her sleeping lover and the _hiss_ of spray paint ejecting from her paint guns. She dedicates to her project a level of focus that she'd picked up during rigorous training sessions back in her days at the Imperial Academy. She grimaces as she remembers the place and the destruction her classmates and their organization had sown in the years since she'd escaped, culminating in the events of the day.

She's still putting the finishing touches on the piece when Ezra stirs, pushing himself into a sitting position and locking indigo eyes with hazel when she looks at him. She smiles and places the paint gun on the desk, moving towards him to cup his jaw in her hand. "How you feeling?" she asks.

He shrugs, reaching up to hold her hand in place against his cheek and breathing in deeply. "Lucky to be alive, considering what we've been up against for the past five years."

She nods in understanding. "No kidding," she breathes, running her thumb along his cheekbone before withdrawing her hand. Her eyes flicker back to her painting for a moment before returning to his. "Do you really think the Rebellion is making things worse?"

He sighs heavily, leaning forward toward her. "I don't know, Sabine. Sometimes it definitely feels like it."

"Ezra, I know it's tough when the Empire's coming down on us from all sides, believe me." Her voice is gentle, but firm. "But I don't have a single regret. Becoming a part of something bigger, believing in myself, saving lives, seeing the hope we bring to those the Empire oppresses, joining a family… falling in love, even. I'm a better person for it. I don't regret any of it."

He opens his mouth with a reply on his lips but shuts it again with a bow of his head. "Sabine…" he breathes finally, the rest of his sentence again trailing off as he's unable to find words.

When he looks back up at her, he sees her hand, outstretched and inviting. "Come here," she says gently, and she laces her fingers with his when he lifts his hand to meet hers and tugs him toward the painted canvas. He's slow to lift his head to meet the sight before him, but the moment he does she can feel him freeze next to her.

He sees names - hundreds of names layered over one another, tightly packed and forming the shape of a planet that was colored remarkably similar to Alderaan. At the forefront are the names of lost friends, allies, and… his parents. And tagged in aurebesh above and below the scene is a phrase that strikes Ezra to his core:

" _Fight onward, so that they may live onward."_

His fingers tighten around Sabine's, and she squeezed back gently. "Do you like it?" He swallows hard and nods, and she smiles at his response. "Good," she continues. "I was hoping that it – "

She's cut off by Ezra curling his fingers into the vibrant hair at the back of her head and pulling her lips suddenly and fervently to his. When they pull apart, hungry and breathless, he drops his forehead to hers. "Thank you," he whispers.

When Commander Sato contacts the _Ghost_ with the gut-dropping news that they'd all expected, Sabine's heart swells as Ezra is the first to step forward and proudly insist that the Rebellion fight onward.


	5. Look at the Color

**So it's been a while since my last update,and I deeply apologize. Here I thought that graduating college would take a load off my plate, when in reality, real life is actually _hard_! (Shocker, I know.) Here's a little bit of pure fluff (and I mean _fluff_... so much you could stuff a pillow with it) to make it up to you all!**

 **On another note, how about Season 4? I honestly think Filoni is doing his best just to tease Ezrabine shippers at this point. But the episodes have been SO. GOOD.**

 **Unfortunately, while Kanera shippers are celebrating, our favorite pairing has yet to be confirmed canon. Here's this while we all wait for Filoni to make it official:**

* * *

Ezra inhales deeply as he lets Sabine lead him up the winding, narrow stairways to the Yavin temple rooftops. The scent of the moon's fresh air, much like the comforting weight of the Mandalorian's fingers interlaced with his own, is a pleasant and welcome contrast to the sights, sounds, smells and feelings he'd experienced while growing up in Lothal's inner cities. She leads him up the steps quietly and deliberately without hurry, an action Ezra recognizes as part of her new resolution to enjoy the moments in which she's able to be still and just _be_. She'd confided in him about the desire just a few nights previous after an argument had erupted between the two, in which Ezra had felt spurned (and rightfully so) as she brushed him off to busy herself with unnecessary duty for the Rebellion's cause.

He knows it's difficult for her to allow herself rest and contentment in the quiet moments; she's been on the move her whole life. Between her childhood on Mandalore, where she was raised up as a warrior, her time in the Imperial Academy, where she fell into a strict and disciplined schedule, and her time spent as a freedom fighter for the Rebellion, where she's been stretched nearly to her limits as a vital player in the game, Sabine has rarely ever had the time to just slow down. So when she glances back at him to lock hazel eyes with blue as they near the top of the stairs, he meets her with an encouraging smile. Her lips quirk up gently, and she leans back to give him a quick peck on the cheek before pressing onward to guide him to her favorite spot on the planet that they are quickly learning to call home.

The stairway jerks hard to the left, and suddenly they are out in the open, the cool Yavin breeze once again hitting Ezra with the pleasant, fresh aroma of autumn air. He follows her to the edge of the rooftop, placing his palms against the ancient stone of the ledge and leaning over to take in the brilliant display of pure life before him. They tower above green forestry that stretches as far as the eye could see, and the setting sun behind them casts the bright red planet of Yavin before them with a golden glow. Ezra sets his sights on the horizon, where the dark green trees rise up to defiantly contrast with the magenta sky, and lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He glances over at Sabine, whose face mirrors every sense of awe he's feeling as she stares out at the expanse before them with a quiet smile adorning her features, and suddenly Ezra is holding his breath all over again.

"What're you thinking?" she asks without taking her eyes off the scene.

"I'm thinking that I'm definitely out of your league," he responds sheepishly.

She shakes her head with an amused laugh. "Imperial academy dropout and failed leader of the Mandalorian people? Yeah, you definitely dated up."

"Expert marksman, techie, pilot and artist? And gorgeous to boot? I definitely did."

Sabine rolls her eyes. "Stop that." She pauses for a moment to lean into him, however. "Flatterer."

"I'm serious," he says solemnly, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her body into his so that he's glancing out at the horizon with his chin propped up on her head as she stares out at the scene as well.

"You're not out of my league, Ezra. You're a critical part of this alliance, and you're worth far more than you ever give yourself credit for." She pauses for a moment as a smile plays at the corners of her lips. "Your looks don't hurt, either."

"Oh they don't, huh?" he raises an eyebrow suggestively as cocky confidence seeps into his tone of voice, and he leans down to press his lips to her temple.

"Don't let your ego swell up too much, big guy," she says casually. "You still have the most prominent nose in the Rebellion."

He places a hand over his heart in imitated offense. "Hey, now. Don't go bruising my ego, either."

She spins around in his arms to face him and plants a soft kiss on the tip of his nose with a roll of her eyes. "Don't worry, I actually think it's pretty cute."

He grins. "I can live with that," he says with a shrug and feigned indifference.

"Plus it helps me spot you in a crowd from hundreds of yards away," she says quickly, hiding her smirk as she turns back around to face the scenery before them once again, smiling as he fumbles for words and settles on a whined "hey!' in response to her quick wit. She drops her hands to his own encircled around her waist and threads her fingers with his wordlessly, and Ezra again presses a gentle kiss to her temple.

The whine of a hyperdrive catches their attention, and they glance up to watch a battered Corellian freighter drop into the atmosphere and descend toward the Rebel base's landing pad. From their vantage point, Ezra is able to take note of the dozens of soldiers, pilots and mechanics working to clear a space adjacent to where the _Ghost_ currently sits.

"What a hunk of junk," Ezra remarks, unimpressed by the freighter.

"I'm sure she's got it where it counts," Sabine defends. "Besides, forget the ship. Look at the _color_!"

His eyes follow her pointed finger back out to the horizon, and he smiles as he allows his gaze to drop from the scenery and back to the young woman in front of him.

And in that moment, before the base erupts into activity caused by the arrival of the _Millennium Falcon_ , they sit there, content to just _be_. She looks at the color. And he looks at her.


	6. Silhouette

**Check it out, two updates within one week! (a.k.a. I let them be too cute and sweet in that last chapter and immediately had to remedy that with some angst.)**

 **If it's not immediately discernable through the story's context, this picks up just after Ezra realizes that Sabine and Wedge had a brief fling in the past, before their relationship.**

* * *

It's one of the worst arguments they've ever had. Angry tears sting their eyes and their nails dig painfully into the soft flesh of their palms as biting remarks are slung in both directions through gritted teeth. Somewhere in his subconscious, Ezra is sure that at least half the Yavin base can hear the raised voices behind the closed door of Sabine's quarters, but at the moment, he doesn't care. At the moment, all he can think about is the vision of Sabine and Wedge engaging in a fierce liplock and the fact that she hadn't deigned to be _honest_ with him.

It had happened long before she and Ezra had become an item, she'd said. She didn't tell him about it in order to protect his heart, she'd said. She'd never meant to hurt him, she'd said.

He allows himself a dry and humorless smirk at the irony. All her efforts to avoid hurting him had only resulted in greater pain in the end. The points she's made so far in the argument make sense, and he knows it, but right now, he's not interested in _sense_.

There's a blaring command over the base's loudspeaker calling all pilots to their station, and she glances at him with worry in her hazel eyes as she reaches for her helmet. The tension still hangs in the air like a fog, but they're out of time.

"I gotta go," she says quietly, as more sirens and intercom commands filter through the speakers built into the ceiling of her quarters, reminding them both of the impending starfighter assault on the Empire's most dangerous weapon.

"I know," he mumbles, unable to look her in the eye. "We'll… we can talk about this when you get back."

She nods, and hesitates for a moment before placing a gloved hand on his cheek, wincing as he bristles at her touch. "I love you," she reminds him. He loves her too - that's why this argument hurts so damn much - but he can't form the words in time before she quietly slips out of her quarters to join the rest of the pilots preparing to take flight against the Death Star.

As the door closes behind her, Ezra sags against the wall, heaving out a shuddering breath as an overpowering weight of emotion bears down on him.

"I love you, too," he whispers into empty space before burying his face in his hands.

He's unaware of how much time has passed as he sits there, the dim light casting ominous shadows across the vibrant and colorful artwork adorning nearly every inch of free space along Sabine's walls. He studies the designs with a sense of awe, amazed at the way her heart has been spilled across the makeshift canvas in brilliant shades of color. That very heart that she'd so artistically displayed across the otherwise drab interior of her quarters is the very heart she'd given to Ezra even before he'd kissed her while sitting on the hull of an X-Wing fighter. The thought is both awe-inspiring and humbling to him.

Ezra isn't sure if he'd been sitting there for minutes or hours, but when a secondary alert for reinforcements blares over the base's loudspeaker, he's snapped out of his funk. It doesn't take long for panic to set in as his mind catches up with the situation - if reinforcements are needed, then the battle is going much worse than anticipated.

And Sabine is out there.

He's outside of her quarters in an instant, his mind racing faster than his legs as he sprints for the command center. He nearly slams right into Kanan in his hurry to get inside, and his mentor has to place a firm hand on either shoulder to pause the hysterics that are just about ready to explode from within Ezra. "You know you're not authorized to barge in there," Kanan says calmly, jerking his head back towards the door in question to emphasize his point.

"What's happening up there?" Ezra asks, his attention still drawn to the door behind the blind Jedi.

"I don't know, Ezra."

"What do you mean you don't know!?" Ezra's tone is incredulous in nature, and while he expects Kanan to react to the anger, his mentor merely tightens his grip on the younger man's shoulders.

"I mean _I don't know_ ," he repeated, his face sullen and voice gentle. "And believe me, it kills me just as much as it does you."

Ezra's posture slumps in that moment, and for a second it feels that Kanan is the only thing holding him up. "I didn't tell her I love her," he mumbles, swallowing past a lump in his throat that had formed at some point between feelings of frustration and defeat. "We fought and didn't make up, and I couldn't even tell her."

"She already knows, Ezra."

"But if something happens and that's the last interaction we ever have-"

"Ezra." Kanan's voice is sharp and strong, and the young Jedi snaps his mouth shut. "You do _not_ need to let yourself go there right now. You're right, something very well _could_ happen to her up there. I have to face that fact with Hera every single day. But torturing yourself over the possibilities of the future will do you no good in the present."

Ezra sighs. "I know, I know. You're right."

"You know what you _can_ do, though?" He pauses as the younger man raises a hesitant eyebrow in question.

"What?"

"You can sit and wait with a friend who understands exactly what you're going through."

Ezra forces the corner of his mouth up in a reluctant half-smile, and allows Kanan to lead the way to the hangar bay corridor. He follows his mentor's suit and positions himself carefully on the ground against the wall and out of the way of any Rebel forces scurrying back and forth along the walkway, and closes his eyes to slip into a meditative state.

He reaches out in the Force, hoping to brush across even an echo of Sabine's unique Force signature, but despite his exceptional affinity for detecting it, the distance between them is far too great for him to be able to latch onto. Ezra sighs, and his mind begins to wander to everything he could have and should have said.

" _I understand."_

" _I forgive you."_

" _I'm believing the best about you, not the worst."_

" _I love you."_

He's vaguely aware of his own heart thumping wildly in his chest at the thought of being unable to express any of those sentiments to Sabine. Behind closed eyes, he pictures her swiveling about in the gunner's seat of Hera's Y-Wing, taking down TIE fighters above the trenches of the Empire's superweapon and feeling the weight of their argument bearing down on her no matter how much she may have been trying to suppress it.

He's so focused on his worries that he nearly misses the surge in the Force as it happens. Kanan's eyes fly open at the same time Ezra's do, and they both look at one another as they realize that someone else, someone incredibly powerful, had just commanded the very energy field they'd been tapped into. Seconds later, the muffled sound of the Death Star's explosion just outside Yavin's atmosphere filters through the temple walls, followed by celebratory shouting and cheering from the base's Rebel forces.

Ezra is amazed at the Rebellion's accomplishment, feeling the unbridled hope that the Empire could be defeated for the first time since he'd first joined up with the crew of the _Ghost_ as a kid, before the haunting experiences of war had left him jaded.

He stalls his joy, however, as he waits for the remaining ships to return. As the X-wings fly in, he notices that the Rebel forces, although victorious, had still suffered significant losses, and there's a twinge in his heart as a majority of the base personnel rush to the X-wing of the pilot that had made the finishing shot, but there's still no sign of Sabine and Hera.

Finally, away from the bustle that has gathered around the previously-unknown Tatooine farmboy who'd only just recently joined the rebellion, a battered Y-wing limps down towards the hangar, setting down just outside so that the smoke filtering from its engine is prevented from filling the space with toxins.

Ezra doesn't even realize he's running toward her until he's nearly careening into her as she steps down the ladder and lands deftly on the ground. He gathers her up into his arms and holds her close, afraid that if he loosens his grip she might just slip away. She awkwardly works to remove her helmet while her face is buried in the crook of his neck, and when she finally manages to wrestle it off and toss it to the ground his lips are at her neck, her jawline and finally on her own, pressing against her desperately and wantingly.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."

She pulls back to look at him, their eyes both red and rimmed with unshed tears. She's not quite sure what to say, and he can tell, but she delivers the best smile she can afford before pressing her lips to his again, letting her actions speak what her voice cannot.

And as the hangar fills with celebration of Luke Skywalker's magnificent achievement against the Empire, Ezra Bridger holds Sabine Wren tight and can't help but think that Force-damn it, he's going to marry this girl someday.


End file.
